


The Queen of the Palace of Paper - An Anthro Erotic Romance

by ArtifexCaloris



Category: Furry (Fandom), Monster Girls | Monster Boys, Original Work
Genre: Antennae, Anthropomorphic, Bugs & Insects, Creampie, Dancing, F/M, Flirting, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Royalty, Slow Dancing, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, casual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtifexCaloris/pseuds/ArtifexCaloris
Summary: ⠀Now that Spring has returned, Nathan can focus on his garden again. Working to forget the horrible break-up that ruined his Winter, there is no way for him to know that his attempt at befriending a wasp nest will push him between the loving arms of its Queen. As he finds himself reduced to the size of a bug, Nathan will have to deal with a beautiful wasp-woman who believes that true love exists and is easy... but is it ever?⠀
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	The Queen of the Palace of Paper - An Anthro Erotic Romance

I missed the sun, but not enough to stand in it. Sitting under a tree with its trunk at my back shielding me from the heat, that’s where I want to be. The tree is my Moses, parting sunlight instead of the ocean, and letting me escape not from a Pharaoh, but from the ghost of the last season. 

It’s all behind me and, now that the flowers are blooming and the fauna has come out of its hibernation, I’m happy I can work on my garden again. The tree stands on a grassy hummock at the far corner of the garden. It’s the furthest away I can be from my home and still be in my propriety, although the boundary with the woods is subtle at times.

I look upon my dominion and wonder. I was a zombie throughout most of the winter, recovering from a bad break-up, with work being the only distraction I had during those cold months. That won’t do. I need to start a new gardening project, something that will lead my mind away from how cold and empty my queen-size bed is. Maybe I should get into beekeeping. The flowerbeds are there anyway, and I’m already used to getting friendly visits by fuzzy little friends. May as well let them live here and ask for honey as rent.

I get up and pat at my legs, freeing my leather gloves from the remaining strands of the weeds I just pulled out. A line of ants marches between my foot and the tree’s roots in a tongue of dirt with no grass. I smile. Mom used to tell me that a garden is the sum of all creatures that live in it. She always got so mad at overzealous gardeners that made theirs nice, but dead. Fake, almost. “There is more to a garden than what meets the eye!” She protested every time, indignant.

I should go back inside, get these overalls off, and have a cool shower. I get up and stretch my arms, arching my back and drawing my eyes up. There’s a tree branch within arms’ reach, and on its bottom, hanging upside down, is a yellow and black insect. It pats down on a brown lump with its little arms, adding material to it. It’s building a stalk that will, one day, connect to a full-blown nest.

“Wasps, the crazy cunts of the animal world.” I say, but he only reason I’m not bolting away to preserve my status as ‘Guy who never was stupid enough to fuck with wasps’ is that I recognize its species. Paper wasps are strong believers in self-defence, and since I’ve been here for a while, unharmed, it means I’m not threatening enough for it to enact castle doctrine on my ass. 

Wasps, uh? Not nearly as glamorous and efficient as bees, but I like the challenge. It’s not every day that you get the chance to befriend the queen before it’s able to build its nest.

I head home and emerge from it a minute or two after with a small paper cup in my hands. The sugary water inside slushes back and forth with each of my steps. I’m not a fan of sweet drinks myself, but my little friend will appreciate it. I take back my spot under the tree and wait. As expected, given enough time, the queen notices the liquid ambrosia I’m holding and hovers down to get its fill. I’m standing as still as I possibly can, I don’t want to scare it. The wasp lands with its hind legs on the rim of the paper cup and its much longer back legs on my glove. It folds its four bronze wings at its back and peers inside, antennae twitching. Is it a trap? It goes for it. Way to go, buddy. 

While its abdomen is made of overlapping layers that taper to a cusp - the stinger - its thorax is one smooth piece, black with streaks and splotches of yellow on the back. Right at its center, between her wings, are two columns of three yellow dots each, like the six-face of a die.

“Well well well, yahtzee or whatever. It’s my lucky day, isn’t it?”

In response, the wasp finishes her meal and flies back to her construction site. I shrug. As long as it’s not stinging me, it’s all good.

I repeat the process in the following days. I get out to give the queen some sugary water and leave it to be. After a few days, I move onto the next phase. I rid myself of the gloves and let her proboscis lap at the tip of my finger after I’ve dipped it into the cup. She laps at me without care, telling me she already trusts me a lot.

It takes a little more than three weeks for worker waps to emerge from the nest. A whole new structure hangs off the stalk. It’s like an upside-down bouquet, with paper combs taking the place of the flowers’ bulbs.

The nest’s soft buzz lulls me as I sit under the tree branch on a lazy Friday afternoon. Wasps come and go, sometimes just doing a pirouette before landing again. I know that somewhere in there is my queen with her lucky brand. Now that the nest is in full force, there’s no reason for her to risk going outside. If it were to die, all its subjects would wither away after her, leaving an empty paper husk behind.

A trio of wasps detaches from the rest of the swarm and descends towards me. My arm, resting on my pulled back knee, acts as their landing pad. They look around with snappy, neurotic movements, and they find their way down to my wrist.

I flail away when they burrow under the loose cuff of the glove. Unfazed by it, they keep wiggling their abdomens as they try to slip under the tight rim of the wrist. Defeated, they get out of there and I realize I had been holding my breath.

They stare at me eyes that are polished black pebbles, right at me, showing a level of awareness of my person I didn’t think was possible.

“What’s going on?” I mutter. I bring my arm and the trio closer to my face. The middle wasp takes a step forward and flutters its wings in place. While its companions have a yellow and black coloration similar to that of their queen, this wasp’s stripes and splotches are a dark shade of blue that refracts sunlight in a purple shine. It flutters its wings again and once more and taps one of its hind legs on my arm.

“What do you want?” I ask.

It turns its head to my hand and claps its mandibles. That gets the point across, if there’s a point to begin with and I’m not just going insane. I pinch the leather at the tip of my middle finger and pull the glove away, freeing my hand. The dark wasp scutters down to my palm, leaving behind its buddies. I roll my hand up and hold the little insect as it rubs my palm at its center with both pairs of its hind limbs.

“What’s going on?” 

In response, it turns around and stings me. Her abdomen contracts as it squeezes venom down its canal and through the stinger lodged in my flesh. My hand jolts and I flail it as if it were on fire. It’s blazing to cinders and turning my muscles to stone. Tears swell at the bottom of my eyes, and the garden turns into a blurry mass of green as my vision fades. My throat clamps, killing my breath, and I fall down.

The morning light glows beyond my eyelids and reminds me I’m alive. The ghost of a headache lurks at the back of my brain, threatening to turn real, but for now, I’m fine.

But where am I? My eyes are met with tall walls and ceiling the color of bark. I want to push myself up but I stop because there is somebody in my peripheral vision. I turn my head ever so slightly in their direction.

It’s a woman, balancing her chair on its back legs as her own legs are over a table. She uses her thighs as a surface for her notebook, and she scribbles on it using a thin, pointy stick she dips in a wooden inkwell on the table. Is she wearing some kind of fetish gear? Her whole body is black and smooth, free of any trace of hair, even her head. Two cyan antennae sprout from the cusps of her forehead and twitch in the air as she stares at her writing with white pupils on black sclerae, like the negative of a normal eyeball. Empty space replaces the spot where her nose should be.

“I know you’re awake.” She leaves her pen in the notebook as she slams it shut and throws it on the table. “It’s not nice to spy on strangers, you know?”

I push myself up to a sitting position and let the hazelnut-tinted bed sheets slide off my chest. I rub my eyes. It’s not some kind of suit, that’s what her skin looks like. It isn’t even black like I thought; her limbs are a dark shade of blue that reflects light in purple highlights.

“You are the one who stung me.” I say and rub my palm. “Am I dreaming?”

She shakes her head. “Welcome to our nest, visitor. I am Rurina, the royal advisor and scholar.”

The room isn’t just a room. It’s made of six walls that are strong and sturdy, and yet they let sunlight seep through and light the place as if they were made of paper. The woman isn’t just a woman, and a tail-like organ sprouts from her lower back and waggles in the air as she rocks on her chair. It’s wide and bulbous, protected in overlapping layers of dark blue exoskeleton, and it tapers to a black stinger the size of a kitchen knife. We’re in a comb, and the woman really is a wasp.

“This can’t be real.”

“Switching realms with such a dramatic change in perspective can be disorienting,” she gets up from her chair, “take your time.”

“What does that even mean? And why did you bring me here?”

“Your presence is wanted by our beloved ruler, my sister, the Queen. She sees you as a valorous ally and she asked me,” she sighs, “she ordered me to inject you with my Shifting Venom so that you could see us in our true form. Unfortunately, I do not know the exact nature of the topics she wants to discuss with you. She will reveal them herself, at the ball later in the day--”

“Wait,” I raise my hand to stop her, “you’re having a ball?”

“ _ We _ are having a ball. It’s in your honor. I hope you enjoy dancing, because the Queen does.”

Despite all the confusion swirling in my brain, I can’t help but puff up my chest at the thought of a Queen wanting to meet me so badly she’d use some sort of magic spell to bring me in slow dance range. “I’ll be there.”

“Yes, of course. Where else would you be? The venom isn’t going to fade away until Monday.”

She didn’t finish her sentence by calling me “genius”, but I can tell she would have really liked to. She taps her foot against the floor and stares straight at me.

“Are you gonna stay here with me for long?” I ask.

“No, actually. I have other matters to attend to, such as telling the Queen about your awakening, beginning the ball’s organization, and returning my notes to my study. I’ll be back in the afternoon to accompany you to the ballroom. Feel free to roam the Palace in the meanwhile. Everybody knows who you are, you’re big news.”

She picks her book and heads for the double doors at the far end of the room. Each of her steps makes her abdomen bob up and down in the air, and with it, its curved stinger.

“Wait!” I say when she’s about to push the door open, freezing her in place like a kid who failed to sneak under their parent’s nose.

“What is it?”

“With what clothes am I going out? I’m naked under these sheets.”

She tilts her head, blinks, and laughs. She spreads her arms wide and motions like a magician showing off a trick, but what she is showing off is her body, a body that has been by my side, bare, glistening like a cup of dark red wine since I’ve woken up. Blood rushes two ways, to my cheeks and to my groin, as I notice the mounds of her black breasts on her chest and the silhouette of her lower lips between her thighs.

“I hope you’re just groggy because of the venom, because we’re all naked,  _ genius _ .”

I didn’t have to imagine the insult this time.

The chaos of my thoughts turns to anxiousness in my feet. I stride back and forth in my room, drawing blood away from my burning cheeks and groin and towards the muscles of my thighs and calves. What’s wrong with me? I’ve been shrunk to a hundredth of my size and I’m surrounded by the unknown, and yet what is stopping me is not fear of danger, but rather, the embarrassment I’d feel at having a whole swarm of antennaed chicks stare at my crotch. Oh god, what if I get hard again? Is the Queen going to chop my head off for indecent exposure?

I slap my cheeks. Get a grip, Nathan. They’re not human, Nathan. You just have to bide your time and do what they say for a few days. Then, you’ll be back to your normal size and you’ll steer clear from the hill and the tree and the nest until the end of times. You’ll never have to think about this again.

I sigh and gather all the courage I have. I push the doors open and enter a hallway made of the same type of walls as that of the comb. There is no flair to them, they’re bare surfaces that light the place up in a warm glow.

I make my way down a random direction, passing by the entrances of more combs. The hallways snake around these hexagonal rooms, creating a labyrinthine system of shallow turns and confusing loops.

A wasp-woman appears after a turn. Unlike Rurina, her limbs and head are a bright yellow, and her antennae are like amber. She’s heading in my opposite direction, but her stride hiccups when she notices me. I fight the impulse to hide behind my hands as she scans me head to toe with her white pupils, her step slowed to a crawl to buy more time to observe me the same way that, in another world, an entomologist would observe her.

I speed up to escape the weight of her gaze, but it’s useless. The further I go into the nest, the more wasps I meet. Some are walking around with purpose, going who knows where. One carries the dead body of a caterpillar over her shoulder, by the end of its tail, as if it were freshly caught game. I cover my mouth with a fist and swallow a heave. I hope they won’t try to feed me any of that. I pass by two chatting wasps waddling along as one of them pushes a cart with two barrels. They quiet down as the distance between us shortens, and I take the opportunity to peek inside the cover-less barrels when I overtake them. I am met by the mellow sweetness of nectar. Sweet drinks may not be my favorite, but that sure beats caterpillar flesh.

I’m not even two steps away from the couple and they’re already buzzing with whispers and giggles. They must be talking about the exotic human and how weird he looks, with his hair and skin that doesn’t look like it’s painted on. Will the Queen be as curious as them? I doubt she’ll be as playful as the common wasps. No, her reaction will align more with Rurina’s, moved by the desire to make business. She’s going to be more respectful, though, more authoritative, to gain my favor before asking me for something. Maybe she’d like a steadier supply of sugary water, in exchange turning the nest into my own group of mercenary pest hunters. Or maybe they want to put me in their caterpillar stew to give it an extra kick. Hope not.

The growing glow alerts me of the passage of time. It must be around midday. I wish Rurina had been more exact: the ball will start in the afternoon, but when in the afternoon exactly? I guess I can’t ask too much of someone without the concept of clocks. Not wanting to lose myself in this maze, I trace back my steps and return to my room.

I’ve been laying on my bed for about an hour when there is a knock at the doors. I open them.

“It is time.” Rurina says.

We head for the outer rim of the nest, in the opposite direction of my previous exploration. We find a room that’s larger than all of the combs I’ve passed by before. The long wall we’re heading towards sports three pairs of doors, more like gates, at least three times as high as me. The gates are all open wide, and a trickle of guests arrives alongside us. Inside, the ballroom is already packed with dozens of wasps, yellow, brown, some even shining with the slightest hint of red. There are two tables flanking the longer walls of the room, and they’re covered in plates of caterpillar flesh, other small animals I can’t recognize, and berries the size of my head. Some of the wasps act as waitstaff, holding trays of food or mugs full of nectar and fruit juices. A quartet of flying wasps fills the room with a buzzing melody played with their fluttering wings. It’s like being at a concert where all the instruments have been replaced with kazoos. Groups of chit-chatters form and disband, laughs are had between drinks and the entire place smells of chlorophyll and nectar.

“Where’s the Queen?” I ask Rurina.

“Hasty to meet her, aren’t we?” She picks up a cup of nectar from a waitress. “The most important person is always the last to arrive.”

“What should I do, then?”

“Go talk with people. Have fun.” She takes a sip of her drink. “You’re a grown-up human, high and mighty, show some initiative.” 

I don’t appreciate the sarcastic tone behind the ‘grown-up’, but I have to agree with her. But I’m not a socialite, and I have no idea of what kind of small chat I could make with individuals of different species. We may understand each other on the surface, but we’re from two completely different worlds. I shift uncomfortably from one leg to the other and back, intimidated by the constant side-eyes the guests steal at me. We’re stuck with a limbo, with me being too weirded out by them, and them being too weirded out by me.

“Shy, aren’t we?” Rurina gulps down the last of her nectar and places the empty cup on a passing waitress’s tray without even looking at it. “Maybe if you were more forward you’d have a wife instead of spending all your time playing with flowers and bugs.”

I’m halfway through processing what she has just said when she slips her arm around mine and perks up, straightening her back. I follow her example and pretend I’m a noble of high class, but a little voice at the back of my head tells me I look like an idiot trying to appear dignified while as naked as a baby. I echo Rurina’s words and tell myself that, hey, we’re all naked.

Rurina guides me to the center of the ballroom and near a group of wasps all chatting together, having a merry time. She taps one of them on the shoulder, prompting her to turn around. The wasp’s eyes light up as she sees Rurina.

“Rurina!” She says. ”The Queen be blessed, you made it! We all feared you wouldn’t have the time, busy as you’ve been with your studies.”

“You shouldn’t have worried, Lady Maranee, I couldn’t miss the event. You see, the Queen tasked me to accompany the guest of honor.” She pushes me from the back, making me take a step forward. “Lady Maranee, this is Lord Nathan Fillinger, master of these lands, and long-awaited visitor of the Queen.”

“Oh, Lord Fillinger needs no introductions, he’s been the talk of the nest since you first brought him in. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Maranee offers the back of her hand to me, her fingers lax in the air. I glance at Rurina with my deer-in-the-headlights eyes, and she nudges towards it while puckering her lips.

“I- I’m enchanted.” I say. I take her hand and give it a grazing peck.

“Have you enjoyed your time in the nest?”

“It’s-- it’s a pretty amazing structure, but--”

“Oh, yes, it’s my joy.” Maranee squeaks over my words. “The Queen herself begun it, but I coordinated the rest of its construction. This ballroom is especially dear to her, you see, wasps don’t usually build these in nests...”

“You did a wonderful job! I’m sure Lord Fillinger agrees.” Another wasp interjects.

“I do.”

“Lord Fillinger!” A third wasp says. “How large is your Queen’s colony? And what is she like? Is she one of the humans we see beyond the limits of your lands?”

“I don’t have a queen, that’s now how it works--”

“I have a question myself,” yet another wasp joins in, “Lord Fillinger, what is the purpose of the organ at the center of your face?”

“My nose? That’s for breathing.”

“How curious!”

“I agree!” Another wasp nods. “So your mouth and skin are not enough? Humans sure love their air!”

“I guess so.” I say. I turn around, searching for Rurina with my gaze. She may not be the nicest of chaperones, but she’s the only anchor I have. I don’t find her, though. I’m surrounded by dozens of yellow faces and black eyes, hungry and curious and staring at me. I’m overpowered, struggling to breathe as I drown in the swarm’s suffocating attention. Humans sure love their air, but I’m getting none.

“Excuse me for a while,” I mutter, “I am not feeling too well.”

I make my way through them as I feel the weight of puzzled stares on my back. My hands part their huddled bodies and I break free of the cocoon of gossip I was stuck into. I slip out of the closest set of double doors.

The gentle breeze caresses my face like a loving mother and brings with it the scent of flowers. I wanted to go back to the hallway, but I have found my way to a balcony by pure chance, so that I may admire the outside world in my new size for the first time. We are hundreds of meters over an endless forest that is the grass blanket of the garden, and far away are the flowerbeds, nations of color and sweet scents. Even further away is my home, standing out at the edge of the horizon with a size so colossal it makes my heart plunge to my stomach. Do I really live there? It’s hard to believe. It’s a gray mountain that could dwarf the Everest twice or thrice, but all it’s dwarfing right now is me. I hold myself up on the flat parapet, internalizing emotionally what I already knew rationally: I’m the smallest thing on Earth.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” An umpteenth wasp says from behind me. I don’t even bother turning around. I want to tell her to leave me alone.

“I guess.” I say instead.

She doesn’t catch the drift and walks to my side. She leans on the parapet with her arms folded against her chest. “Sorry if I’m annoying you, that was a pretty silly question. These are your lands, you made them, of course you think they’re pretty.”

“I’m not annoyed. I’m just not used to having so many eyes on me.”

“Mmh, I understand, even though I can’t say I feel the same. You get used to having so many faces around when you live in a nest like this one.”

“I’m a hermit in comparison, but it feels good to be all alone sometimes, you know? Last winter I was all around people and it ended badly.” 

I managed to avoid thinking about her for three months, but Jenny’s  _ It’s not gonna work _ echoes in my eardrums like whispers out of a grave.

The wasp moves closer to me, and the brushing of our arms convinces me to look at her. Her lips are blooming in a wide but quiet smile that puffs up her cheeks. She’s radiant with both her skin and eyes glistening in the sunlight. It’s as if an ancient statue of solid gold and obsidian had come to life and decided to chat with me.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, rolling one of her antennae between her fingers. Unlike the other wasps, she doesn’t keep them straight on her head. They curve down the sides of her scalp, behind her ears and down to her shoulders like two braids. “You seem distracted.”

“Sorry.” I say with a smile. “This may sound fake, but I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

She laughs. “Oh, don’t you worry. Not to toot my own horn, but people say stuff like that to me all the time.”

“I can imagine.”

“But,” she leans closer to me so that she may whisper, “it means more to me when you’re the one saying it.”

I look away, licking my upper lips. So darn dry. “Why? Because I’m the exotic specimen from the human world?”

“No, mostly because you’re cute.”

I let out something halfway between a laugh and an exhalation. It’s all I can muster as my breathing shortens. “Nice to see we see eye to eye, Lady… ?”

“Sucinea. Just Sucinea, don’t bother with the Lady.”

“Sucinea,” I repeat, “since you enjoy my compliments so much, I have to tell you I lied when I said you’re pretty. You’re absolutely stunning.”

“Oh, you’re right, I do enjoy them. I feel all fuzzy inside right now.”

“Would you be so kind as to give me a dance in exchange?” I offer her my hand.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She takes it, and I can’t help but run my thumb over the soft honey skin of her fingers. She doesn’t have nails, her fingertips culminate in pointy ends instead. We go back inside, and I almost regret my decision as all the weight of the guest’s gazes falls back on my shoulders.

“They’re looking at me.” I say.

Sucinea shakes her head. “They’re looking at us.”

I’m not sure what the difference is, but it doesn’t matter. I pretend the other wasps don’t exist and guide Sucinea to a nice free spot on the dance floor, where we face each other.

“Uh, I don’t actually know how to dance.” I say.

She smiles. “Do as I do.”

She intertwines her fingers with mine, their nailless points pushing against the back of my hand, and raises ourhands up and to the side. She guides my other free hand to her waist, making sure its arm keeps a wide, polite curve. I run my fingers against the smooth black skin and feel the underlying, unyielding muscle under the exterior softness. Sucinea’s statue-like appearance doesn’t stop at her colors: she’s toned like an athlete.

I follow after her steps, looking like a drunk bum when compared to her perfect dance skills. We twirl over the floor, uncaring of the eyes looking at us from all sides. I peer into the black of her eyes, down the curve replacing her nose, and to her golden lips. I pull myself forward and she leans down so that our cheeks may link in a zap of static. I turn around and touch her lips, not a kiss, just a peck, a hushed connection that lasts just long enough for me to taste the flavor of nectar off her mouth.

Her hand slides off my shoulder and to my back, stopping right where my buttocks start. I mimic her and graze my fingers against the crescent curve of her bottom, making her giggle. We press together, breaking the formality of the ball dance in favor of a more intimate touching of our bodies. Her nubby nipples brush against my chest, and I feel an urgent tingling growing in my groin.

“You don’t like wasting any time, do you, Lord Fillinger?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“That’s great.”

She closes her eyes and puckers her lips, leaving herself defenseless to me. I take the plunge, ready to kiss her for real as my heart thumps and thumps in my chest. She withdraws at the last moment and looks beyond my shoulder. I turn around to see what she’s looking at.

Rurina is standing a few steps away from us. She squeezes her lips and hammers away at the floor with the plant of her foot.

“Nathan, I thought a bird had eaten you, where did you go?”

I shrug. “Why are you mad at me? You’re the one who left me to fend for myself. I bet you didn’t think I would survive, uh?”

“Oh, oh, oh, look who grew a spine.” She rewards me with limp applause. “All the better, it means I don’t have to babysit you anymore.”

“That reminds me,” I say, still holding Sucinea’s hand, “is the Queen here yet? I hope didn’t miss our meeting. I wouldn’t want to offend her in any way.” All the annoyance I felt at the Queen’s lateness has evaporated. She can take all the time she needs if it means I get to keep my arms around Sucinea for a little while longer.

Rurina laughs. “Sis, did you not tell him?” She asks Sucinea.

A cloud of pink breaks through Sucinea’s yellow cheeks. She looks down to hide her face, like a child who got found with her hand in the cookie jar. I let her hand go, wide-eyed as I put together the puzzle pieces. 

“You’re the Queen?” I ask.

She nods. “I’m Queen Sucinea, ruler of this nest. Hi, Nathan.”

“I- you-” I stutter, “- why would you do that? Were you having a laugh at my expense?”

“Not at all!” She says, raising her hands. “But I wanted to know how you would react to me if you didn’t think of me as the queen. Look at yourself: you just found out and you’re already acting like a different person. Authority always changes the way people act.”

It is true. It feels like metal rods lodged themselves into my limbs and made it impossible for me to be at ease. I would never have complimented her if I had known she’s the queen, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have danced to her unless she were the one to ask me first. I feel a little sting of betrayal in my chest, but I understand her logic. I believe she didn’t mean any arm. I take in a deep breath and laugh.

“You know,” I say, “I can’t find you very authoritative when the first thing you do is a prank.”

“Don’t get too bold now,” She’s acting casual like before, but I can see that relief has washed over her face now that her little stunt didn’t blow up in her face. “I have ways to teach you respect.”

“Nothing you do to me could ever bend my spirit!”

“Are you sure? It’s not wise to try me.”

We both break in a fit of giggles as Rurina looks at us with blank eyes and pursed lips.

“Yes, amazing, wonderful, lovely, we’re all friends.” She says. “But I better go back to my study. You’ll fill in on your announcement later, Sucy, I can’t bear to stay here another second.”

“Announcement?” I ask. “Announcement of what?”

“Only Sucinea knows. It’s the reason she wanted you here.”

She disappears in the crowd, and I turn to Sucinea.

“I thought you brought me here to discuss something important?”

“Yes, and the announcement is part of that. I think I may as well make it now.”

She unfolds her wings and flies up in the air, taking the spot of the musicians. One after the other, the guests notice the lack of music and turn to look at her, awaiting her words.

“May I have your attention?” She speaks in a clear but thunderous tone of voice that is so distinct from her usual mellowness it startles me. “I want to begin by thanking you all for all the good you do for the colony. I hope you have been enjoying the party. When I emerged from my hibernation a few weeks ago, I was alone and scared. This wasn’t my first time building a nest, but the events of last year made me doubt I could manage to do it again. And yet, I did it. And then you joined me as my loyal subjects, and we worked together every day. We did it.”

“However, there is one more person other than me and you that has been instrumental to our success. Lord Nathan Fillinger. In a world where wasps are despised by humankind, Lord Fillinger not only left me be, but he nourished me and showed me kindness. Without him, I don’t think I would have had the determination to continue.”

The whole room erupts in cheers and applauses. I shake my head. It’s flattering, but at the same time, I don’t feel deserving of this amount of praise. All I did was giving her some sugary water.

“Now, thanks to my beloved sister Rurina, her intelligence, her insight, and her incredible abilities, Lord Fillinger is among us and seeing the effects of his generous actions. I believe all debts should be repaid, and this is why, today, I am making him an offer.”

She hovers back to the ground, smiling, her face flushed not in embarrassment but in excitement. My heartbeat echoes in my eardrums as a thousand thoughts dart through my mind, what is she going to say?

“Lord Fillinger,” she takes my hand, “it is time for me to push my colony to the next step. Nothing could make me happier than you accepting to be with me in the future, as my advisor and only mate.”

The cheering of the crowd turns to widespread chattering as an intense atmosphere embraces all of us. I am once again at the center of attention as dozens of eyes wait for my answer. But I don’t have an answer. I barely even have thoughts. All I can see in front of my eyes are the burning letters: mate. Only mate.

Sucinea looks at me with eyes bursting with hope, and a quiet smile that tells me my answer is everything to her. I can’t answer on two feet, I need some time to think, I have questions to asks, but I can’t, this isn’t the time for question or doubts, this is the time to utter words that an entire swarm is expecting, yes or no, no other. Should I accept? I can’t, that’d be crazy, wouldn’t it? Should I refuse? I don’t want to. My gut is telling me I’d regret it if I did. I’m stuck, I can’t see straight. I want to escape back to the balcony, but I can’t.

“I accept?” I say.

The tension breaks and the crowd cheers with renewed energy, thunderous to the point I fear the nest’s stalk is gonna break because of the vibrations. Sucinea cups both of my cheeks and kisses me, soothing my confused mind with her softness and scent.

“We’re going to be so happy together, Nathan. I know it.” Her whispers straighten every hair on my head as if they were made of pure electricity. But is it because of happiness, or because of something else?

The ball experiences its afterglow, and so do we. Weary dancers and socialites turn to the chairs and tables flanking the room, or excuse themselves and return to their combs. I and Sucinea, instead, are only getting started. Her head rests against my chest as our hands wrap around each other. We move through the room with lazy steps, drifting away in circles like a leaf in a pond.

I don’t dare to break the quiet spell we’re under, but my fingertips are tingling, desperate to caress her all over and learn all of her body’s secrets.

“Are you ok? You’re being quiet.” She says.

“I am a bit tired.” I kiss the antenna at the side of her head. “A lot of stuff happened to me today.”

“I know what you need.” She takes my hand, and we make our way out of the ballroom and through the labyrinthine hallways of the nest. We are met with respectful bows whenever we pass by someone, and it occurs to me that I’m the target of that respect just as much as Sucinea is.

“Here we are.” We stop at a pair of double doors that look exactly the same as any of the other sets of double doors I’ve seen in the nest.

“After you.” I say.

“You’re the sleepy one, you go first.” She holds the door open for me.

Inside the room, a silky, white curtain hangs from a circular support in the middle of the ceiling. It trails down, widening as it goes, and drapes around a round bed similar to the one I woke up in. The curtain is see-through, which is why I can see the bed, but I can tell it would be impossible to make out anything more than the vague outlines of anybody resting inside. 

Sucinea pulls me towards the cocoon and parts the curtain with the back of her hand so that I may climb inside. She follows after me, and drops by my side, pushing the sheets and mattress under her weight.

“I love our bed. It’s so soft!” She says. Not her bed. Our bed. We lie on our sides, facing each other. She makes the first move and reaches for my chest, where she traces circles with her index. Its sharp tip flexes my hair under its path.

“It’s the second softest thing in the room.” I say. I run my hand over the curve of her hip and hesitate at its apex, where the skin is taut on the bone. Our room. Mate. I accepted. I push forward and steal a handful of her buttock, digging my fingers in it until it can’t yield any more. Sucinea moans and clasps at my chest hair as the soft flesh fills the crannies between my fingers and sends tingles all over my arm and to my chest.

“I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” I grin, “but I know my priorities.”

She giggles and leans in for a kiss. We nibble of each other’s lips, mine trying to overpower hers and hers trying to overpower mine. We find our harmony, but her tongue remains at the threshold, as if too shy to come in without an invitation. I open my mouth and let her in. My eyes widen as her muscle reveals itself, longer than that of any human woman’s. It explores every corner of my mouth and sucks in my saliva as if it were nectar.

I push her at the base of the head to press her tighter against my lips. She’s had her taste, but now it’s time to satiate my own hunger. I tame her tongue and drive it back in her own mouth, tasting a flowery sweetness so intense I fear it’s going to ruin gardening for me, because no plant could ever compete with it. We unlock with a wet pop and lean forehead against forehead.

“How are you this warm?” Sucinea asks.

“I could melt snow as long as you’re by my side.”

We kiss again, and my hand leaves her ass to grab its next target, what has been on my mind since I first saw her, the inviting roundness of her onyx breasts. I roll the mellow flesh between my fingers, stealing more of her squeals against my lips. Her nipple isn’t a small nub, but a puffy cap that quivers whenever I graze it and tempts me with its fullness. I tighten my index and thumb around it, and Sucinea’s purrs tell me I’m allowed to go beyond. I squeeze. Sucinea writhes and her body digs in the sheets under us. She grabs my wrist and I stop assaulting her nipple to let her catch her breath.

“Too tight?” I ask.

“It didn’t hurt, but I’m sensitive. Nobody ever played with my nipples before.”

“What about your other mates?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “slow? You humans would call it romantic. Us wasps go fast and rough.”

“We can take our time.”

“Try again, but slower, ok?” She lifts her arms over her head, surrendering her chest to me.

“I have a better idea.” I wrap my fingers around her breast and bring her nipple to my mouth. I caress it with my lips by swaying my head left and right, but even this is enough to make her toes curl. I encircle her nipple with my mouth and lap at it, tracing a spiral from the furthest point down to its center, where it’s thicker. As much as I’m enjoying devouring her, I must go even further. I find my way to her legs, between her honey thighs, and I am welcomed by the slick readiness of her ready pussy. I run my finger over her plump slit, bottom to top, letting her emanate wave after wave of heat on my skin, heat coming from the blazing blood pumping right beyond my touch. Her clit is engorged and ready, a perfect pearl that, much like her nipples, is waiting for a gentle pair of fingers to help it find satisfaction. I give it exactly what it wants, I attack Sucinea’s weak spot both above and under her waist, sucking on her nipple as I strum at her little button. I experiment with different strokes and focus on my hearing, taking notice of the intensity of her moans. They lead me to her pleasure as they tell me when I should go faster, or when the angle or pressure are just right. Sucinea winces in pleasure, her eyes fighting to stay open while she sinks her teeth in her lower lip. My lapping turns to a full-blown sucking that makes my cheek cave as my strokes reach perfection and touch her exactly how she wants to be touched. Sucinea quivers in my hands and mouth, and her back arches high, stealing her nipple away from me.

“Fuck!” She shouts as orgasm takes her and spills her bountiful cream on my hand and on the sheets as I dig my finger lengthwise between the crevice of her lips. She collapses back on the bed and looks at me with glistening eyes and a heavy breath. Her eyes drift down, at my groin. “My turn now.”

Her fingers are a few inches away from my aching erection and the stream of pre flowing from its engorged cockhead when the doors slam open. The bang startles us out of the pleasure-addled fog we’ve been living in, making me straighten back up, standing at guard. 

“Sucinea!” Rurina’s voice booms throughout our comb and our bones. “What did you do?”

Sucinea’s eyes go wide as her eyebrows jump up. She looks at me, but I know even less than her. ‘Stay, I’ll handle it’, I mouth to her, pointing at the wet stain under her legs and the glistening slickness between them. I shuffle on my knees and elbows and climb off the bed and beyond the curtain.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. 

“I don’t remember shouting your name.”

“Sucinea isn’t... presentable, so to speak.”

She looks down at my groin and grimaces. “I need to talk with my sister. Get the fuck out.”

“Rurina!” Sucinea’s head peeks between the curtains. “What are you doing? You can’t barge in here while I’m-- while I’m spending time with my mate.”

“Your  _ mate _ ,’ she scoffs, ‘that’s exactly why I am here, to discuss your little show and the way you used me.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You told me that you wanted him here to help the colony, not to get laid.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. I had a feeling when I saw you two dance, but I didn’t think you’d be such an idiot.”

“Rurina,” I say, “Calm down.”

She laughs a long theatrical laugh that pulls her head back. “You haven’t been here a day and you’re already ordering me around. Humans only know how to dominate and ruin things.”

“You are making no sense.”

“He’s right, sis,” Sucina says as she climbs out of the curtains, “what’s your problem? Remember when you told me to get a grip? When you told me to find a way to move on? I did!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Get a grip? Move on? At this point, I have no idea what they’re talking about.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s what you meant or not,” Sucinea says, “it has already worked. Everything went the way I hoped it would. I can’t even explain how cute Nathan was when we talked for the first time, or how I felt when I danced with him, and how happy I was when he said yes and the crowd cheered. This whole day was perfect until you came in and ruined it!”

“You are not being rational, Sucinea. Your head is filled with junk.”

“It isn’t junk, it can’t be junk when it is so real to me. And you’re the one who told me all about it anyway. I’d like to say that, since you’re the smarter one, nothing coming out of your mouth could be junk, but you are proving me wrong right now!”

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Rurina takes in a deep breath with her eyes closed, “it’s my fault I came in so heated. But you have to understand that things are not as simple as you think. Let’s discuss the issue.” Rurina puts her hand on Sucinea’s shoulder

“There is no issue.” Sucinea swats it away. “Nathan is my mate. We will be together even next winter, and the one after that. Get it? Because I love him and he loves me.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Tell her she’s wrong, Nathan.” Sucinea takes my hands and looks through my eyes straight into my soul. She doesn’t see what she hoped for, though.

“Listen,” I say, feeling the warmth of her fingers, “I like you a lot, but I can’t say I love you. Not yet.”

Her lips tremble and their corners droop down. Tears well at the sides of her eyes. “But you should love me. I love you.”

“You- you don’t,” I have to force myself to speak as wet trails appear across her cheeks, “you can’t truly love somebody in such a short time, you have to--”

“Get out.”

“Sucinea--”

“The both of you! Get out of my room! I don’t want to spend a single second with either of you traitors. Spiders!” She drops on the bed, through the curtain, and hides her sobbing in her hands. “Just… leave me alone.”

I extend my hand to her, ready to wrap it around her and tell her I’m sorry and that she misunderstood, but Rurina grabs my shoulder and keeps me in place.

“It’s no use. Let’s give her some time.”

We go for the doors, but I can’t stop myself from looking back. Sucinea has disappeared beyond the curtains, leaving behind nothing but her silhouette and her pained shrieks.

We keep a calm appearance as we head to Rurina’s study. I try to, at least. I fight against the pulling I feel on every muscle of my face, but I’m unsure how well it’s working. The wasps we pass by don’t notice, or if they do, they don’t give us any hint of it.

“I think you owe me some explanations.” I say as soon as I set foot in the study. “And some apologies.”

“Apologies for what?” She throws her chair back from the so that she can sit with her legs crossed on top of the desk in front of it, balancing herself on the back legs of the chair.

“Are you blind or something? You fucked your sister up.”

“She did it all to herself. And you helped.” She opens the desk drawer and pulls a plastic bottle out of it. She takes a swig out of it and then throws it to me. I catch it out of the air and hover my nostrils against the bore.

“Is this alcohol? In a plastic bottle?”

“Yup. Help yourself.”

I slam it on the desk. “Where did you even get that?”

“The bottle I made myself from scrap plastic, the liquor I stole from your kitchen.”

“I never heard of wasps being this crafty.”

“Yeah, that’s the weirdest thing, not the whole ‘we-shrunk-you’ affair.” She pulls her feet off the desk for long enough to grab the bottle. She takes another swig. 

“Let’s get back on track. Explanations. Apologies. I want to understand the situation, and the problem.”

“The problem, Nathan, is the blood in our veins. Remember when I told you about the Shifting Venom?”

“It’s what you injected me with to turn me small?”

“Not exactly. I used it to change your perspective, to let you to see things from our eyes. The change in size is an extension of that. After all, if I had just turned you to the size of a wasp, you wouldn’t be seeing rooms, hallways, and a queen pretty enough to almost - but not quite - steal your heart.”

Another swig. “Whatever makes the venom in my body also spreads it in my blood, just enough of it for me to understand the human world. This is why I could make this bottle, and write those.”

She points at the tall bookcases that line the wall. Many rows are empty, but they still contain dozens of notebooks. “I’ve written a lot of notes, as you can see. I’ve studied a lot. I’ve read books, watched movies, hell, I even had the chance to toy with a computer once or twice. And the more I learn about you humans the more I realize you’re all terrible.”

“What does this have to do with Sucinea?”

“I’m getting to it. I’ll ask you a question, how old do you think I and Sucinea are?”

“In your late twenties?”

She laughs. “We’re three years old. That’s going to sound like nothing to you, but by wasp standards we are ancient. And yet we are healthy and as far away as possible from croaking. And the reason is simple, the venom is lengthening our lives. To human lifespans, I’m assuming.”

“You are saying ‘us’. Does that mean--”

“Yes, Sucinea also has some Shifting Venom in her. Our ‘gift’ is weaker in her, but there is still enough of it for her to be threading the line between wasp-like and human-like insight.

“The first couple of years went ok. Then, she realized her natural clock is out of whack. She got depressed, and you know why? Because she understood that she’d have to see her family die year after year who knows how many times, because that’s how wasps work. The Queen makes her nest in the Spring, she gives birth to the workers, and by the end of summer she’s the only survivor and must hibernate so she can continue the cycle the following year. We’re lucky to have each other, but it wasn’t and it isn’t enough for her. I used to cuddle her at night, trying to stop her crying. I told her stories to cheer her up, stories about humans. Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, stuff like that. Stories that promised an happily ever after.”

“I didn’t know that she didn’t understand how fictional they were. I made a mistake and built this idealized version of the human world for her. She must have wanted to live out her fantasy of true, instant love. When I first arrived at the nest, after my own hibernation, she was shaking to tell me about you. She asked me to use the Shifting Venom on you, and I resisted for a while, but we know how  _ that _ ended. I suspected something was odd, but I couldn’t predict the way things would turn out.”

I lean against the wall and run my fingers over my nape, processing everything about the day I’ve just lived and the story behind it. A vacuum has replaced my stomach, sucking in my guts and yet pushing against my lungs at the same time. Should I feel used? After all, Sucinea used me as nothing more than a prop in her fantasy. And yet… her ‘I love you’ echoes in my ears. What she feels about me may not be love, but it is earnest. She is confused, scared, and coping with her life. How would I act if I had to see everybody I know die, every year of my life, in a sort of endless Dantean punishment?

“I am going to sleep.” I say, getting up. “I need some rest, and the nest is close to dark anyway.”

“See ya.” She says, eyeing the dark liquid as she sways the bottle.

My hands slam on the desk and startle her legs off of it. “But this doesn’t mean we’re done, Rurina. I don’t care how much you think I suck, I want to help your sister. We’re gonna let her be for now, but tomorrow, we talk to her. Me and you, together, as a united front.”

She doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t care for her answer. I exit the study and return to my comb.

Tiredness makes me sleep well into the morning, but the pain that thumps in my heart for Sucinea and the uncertainty of our future discussion imprison me in a broken record of nightmares. I see her face, her lips drawn back in a snarl as she shouts at me to get out, rage mixing with tears. I see her silhouette through the silk, and hear her quiet sobbing. I smell rotten flowers.

There is no gradual return to consciousness. My eyelids shoot open and with that, I’m awake. I leap out of the bed and head for the doors without even having to think about it. My muscles move fueled by the desire to set things right. I still hear her echoes at the back of my ears.

I open the door and intercept Rurina, right outside, with her fist raised in an aborted knock.

“Let’s go.” I say, and she nods.

Maybe we should discuss it more, as we walk, but I don’t think either of us wants to speak much. I hope I’ll find the words once I’m there, because I don’t know what I’m going to tell Sucinea. Will she even let us speak to her in the first place? 

I knock on the door to the royal comb. No answer.

“Are you sure she’s in there?” I ask.

“I know it. Sucinea!” She pounds at the door with a few knocks of her own. “Please, sis, let us in. Nathan wants to apologize. I want to apologize, too. Fuck, I have to apologize the most. I thought you were being rash, and I panicked and acted rashly myself, without thinking about how it made you feel.”

“Why did you lie to me?” Sucinea’s voice is so tired it’s almost as if she’s whispering, barely audible from our side.

“I’d never lie to you, Sucy.”

“But you told me those stories. You told that it isn’t so bad to be this way, because it lets us understand beauty beyond our means. But all I wanted to understand was love, sis, and all I got were lies. I thought humans knew how to love.”

“It’s not that simple,” I say, “but humans do know love.”

“Then why did you say you don’t love me? Even though I love you and you accepted to be my mate?”

“I’m going to tell you, but… would you please be kind and let me do it face to face? I want you to see it on my face that I wouldn’t lie to you, either.”

One of the doors swings open. Sucinea holds onto it like a kid hiding behind their mother’s dress.

“Thank you.” I say. I offer her my hand, but she just stares at it as if it were a trap.

Rurina sits on Sucinea’s desk chair, while I sit on the desk itself. Sucinea plops down on her bed and joins her hands on her thighs, looking down as she fidgets with her fingers. The canopy curtains have been pulled back, so she can’t hide behind them. We may be far away from each other, but we’re face to face. It’s good enough.

“I’m going to tell you a story.” I say.

“I’m sick of stories.”

“This one is different. It’s true, and I know because it happened to me..”

“... fine.” She sighs.

I inhale a lungful of fresh air. “About two years ago, I went out with some friends. One of them brought a woman called Jenny. I thought she was beautiful and wanted to learn more about her. My friend invited her to hang out with us a few more times, and after that I knew I had to ask her out. She accepted, and soon enough we were a couple. ‘Mates’, you’d call us.

“I was madly in love with her, and I thought it was the same for her. During the day, we’d talk and talk and talk, unable to stay quiet. During the night, our hands couldn’t stay off each other. I can’t deny it was one of the best periods of my life. It felt like I had somebody that truly understood me.”

I grimace. The next part is gonna hurt to say out loud. “We broke off at the end of last fall. Jenny walked up to me and very clearly said, Nathan, it’s not working out anymore. I didn’t cry the day she left, but I did cry for weeks afterward, in my bed at night. I didn’t know if I hated her or if I still loved her. Then I realized the two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

“What hurt the most was that there wasn’t any big reason Jenny left me. Her feelings that had been so strong at the start faded away, and she decided I wasn’t worth the emotional investment. So she left.”

Sucinea stares at me and blinks. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It isn’t a very good story.”

“But it is true, as I said.”

“Then what’s the point of it?”

“What I got out of it is that the emotion of love is fickle. It’s like a gigantic boulder, at first. It’s hard to believe it’s not indestructible, but time will turn it to pebbles. If you want to protect it, you must look out for clouds and shelter it from rain. And at some point, you may decide that it’s just a rock that doesn’t deserve the effort, and leave it to crumble to dust. I put effort in my love for Jenny and did my best every day to keep it alive, but it wasn’t the same for her.”

“So love is just a gamble? You do your best and hope your mate does too? I’m already cursed to lose everybody because of time, I’d rather not add anybody else to the pile. What’s the point?”

“There is really no point,” I say, “there was this one human that once said that it’s better to have loved and lost somebody than to have never loved in the first place. I agree with him. If I had the chance to travel back in time and stop myself from being with Jenny, I wouldn’t. It was a fair shot at love, and even though it didn’t work out, I’m still happy I tried. I couldn’t be telling you this story otherwise.”

I walk up to her. "Sucinea, you are a hard worker, talking with you makes me feel great and giggly, and you’re the single most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But as much as I’m attracted and infatuated to you, I can’t say I love you, because love is built with time and effort. I should not have accepted your offer, but loneliness took over my mind in that moment. I hope that you’re going to understand that neither me nor your sister meant to hurt you.” I offer her my hand. She looks at me, then away.

“I’m sorry,” she says, grasping it, “I shouldn’t have asked you in front of everybody.”

I pull her close to hug her. “Yeah, you knew I’m terrible with crowds. It sure didn’t help.”

My eyes shoot wide as I feel Rurina’s arm on my shoulders as she wraps both of us in a hug of her own. “I’m sorry, Sucy.” She says. “I’m also sorry about what I said about you, Nathan. Maybe you’re slightly less terrible than the average human.”

“You’re less of a jerk than I thought you were, too.”

“Way to prove me wrong instantly, genius.”

I leave Sucinea and Rurina alone for the rest of the day. They have things to say to each other it’s not any of my business to get into, and they also have their daily work to do as the leader of the nest and her prime advisor. I wander through the nest, discovering every one of its twin hallways. If it weren’t for all the bowing wasps I meet, there’d be no way for me to be sure I moved at all, because all the hallways look fundamentally the same. 

“Hello, could you give me directions to the ballroom?” I ask one of the wasps.

“Directions?” She blinks twice. “I’m sorry, Lord Fillinger, I’m not too sure… I’d just walk until I’m there.”

As I suspected, there must be some sort of instinct or ability that lets the people living here find what they need. I manage to find the ballroom after much more wandering and make my way across its smooth floor. It’s just a large empty room when it’s not teeming with guests and waitresses. Even the long refreshment tables flanking the walls have been removed. 

I step outside and into sunlight and fresh air. My home stands there, so close and yet so far away. Rurina said I the Shifting Venom is going to vanish by midnight. I trust her and the other wasps to deliver me straight to my bed without hiccups, but that’s not what’s bothering me.

Am I ever going to see the nest again? We may have helped Sucinea see past the fable she had built for herself, but I was enjoying it too. What a dream, to be brought to a new land and be handed true love on a silver platter. I understand what she found so appealing. Now that she knows I’m not her knight in shining armor, does she have any reason to give me the time of the day?

“Still can’t get enough of how pretty it is, uh? Or maybe you are getting homesick?” Sucinea says from behind me.

“A little bit of both.” I say.

“You’ll be home soon, don’t worry. Sorry for putting you through everything I did.”

“It will make for a good story, at least. A good story can always come in handy.” 

“Yeah.”

I breathe in the flowery air of the garden. “Did you care about me for anything more than the fact was a friendly human?”

“I… I don’t think so, no.” 

“I figured.” My heart drops to my guts, and my eyes moisten. I won’t cry, but I’ll concede this much to myself.

“But that was only at first, before you came here.” She caresses my cheek and turns me to face her. “ When I first saw you on the balcony, with the sunlight reflecting over your hair, all I could think was how handsome you were. And then we talked, and we danced, and we laughed together, and I felt something strong. You’re right, it isn’t love, but I feel like it could be, eventually.”

“Sucinea...”

“Call me Sucy. Sucinea is how I want my subjects to call me, not my boyfriend.”

“But what if it ends up that we’re too different? What if you think I’m too human, or I think you’re not human enough?”

“I’ll take the risk, and if it happens, we’ll hurt, and we’ll move on. A cute and smart man once told me that’s the only way to go forward.”

I hug her, grazing the underside of her wings as I enclose her in my arms and rub my cheek against hers. “Sounds like a great dude.”

“Don’t tell him what I said, I wouldn’t want to inflate his ego.”

“I’m gonna need some help to keep my lips sealed.”

We kiss. Even though we have already kissed before, this feels different. I can’t help but feel like it’s more genuine.

“There, that should do it.” She says against my lips.

“Do you think Rurina will agree to bring me back again?”

“I think you managed to convince her not all humans are terrible. And even if you didn’t, what’s the point of being a queen if you can’t order people around? Now, come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as she pulls me away from the balcony.

“I owe you a debt, remember? Be quick, we don’t have much time.”

I sit on the edge of her bed and Sucinea sits on me with her legs perpendicular to mine. She’s unstoppable as she litters my mouth, cheeks, and neck with kisses, letting out a pop and sending rings of warmth through my skin with each of them.

“You don’t--” She stamps her lips on mine and I have to stop myself from slipping my tongue beyond them, “--you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I don’t care if last time we got interrupted.”

“Do I look like I don’t want to?” She runs her palm against my chest, grazing my erect nipple. “We’re both looking forward to it, Nat. It’s fine.”

Her claw trails down, over my stomach, and to my crotch, leaving behind a long tongue of tingling skin. She aims for my sack. She rolls the stretchy skin between her fingers, looking for the two round rewards inside.

My erection, already at half-mast because of our kissing, lengthens by the second as she toys with my jewels. The wrinkly skin is pulled back as I grow, and veins fill with passionate blood. The familiar sensation of desire appears at the base of my crotch. It’s a feeling similar to stretching an elastic for too long and with too much strength, you know it is going to break. How long will it take her to break me?

She observes me with a smirk, reveling in seeing my face flush red and my breath deepen. She gives me a light squeeze, coaxing a pearl of pre out of my cockhead.

“I wonder what you taste like.” She says, dismounting from my lap. She kneels in front of me and grabs my thighs for support. I plant my hands on the bed, skewing my back to push my hips further and my crotch closer to her mouth. She looks up at me with her large eyes, her face hovering mere inches from me, torturing me with the warmth of her breath on my already burning skin.

“Do you want me to taste you?”

I nod.

She slaps my thigh. “Where are your manners? You must always answer out loud, when a Queen asks you something.”

“Taste me, Sucy. I want to be inside of your mouth.”

“I promise you I will, but for now, I’ll teach you something nice.”

She plants her hand on the floor so that she’s on all fours, and takes a step forwards. Her face presses against my sack, and even this little amount of touch is enough for me to spill more pre.

She straightens her antennae and aims them straight at my erection as she lets my sack use her face as a stand. She moves them forward, pushing their bronze endings against my cock on either side, and they come to life to stroke me. I grunt as the pressure at the base of my crotch builds up. They’re not the most nimble of limbs, but they are warm and covered in small hairs that I smear with my sticky wetness, lubing them up and making their job easier.

“Mmh! I can taste you with my antennae, and I can’t believe how thick your scent and flavor are. They’re nothing short of overpowering.” Her lips tickle me as she speaks and grazes the skin of my ballsack. “I could stay like this for hours.”

“You made me a promise.”

“Don’t fear, cutie.” She giggles as she straightens back up, the warmth of her breath meeting my cock once again. “A Queen always keeps her word. Tell me what you want loud and clear, and I’ll give it to you.”

I inhale. “I want you to suck me off until I can’t take it anymore.”

She presses her tongue against my erection and slathers it from base to tip. She toys with my frenulum with dozens of little licks, stealing drop after drop my pre. I grunt as she places the rim of her mouth against my head, letting it spurt through the gap of her lips and straight inside her mouth. I tense my legs, fighting against my urges, my instincts that tell me to be done with it as fast as I can and help her torture me as slowly as she wants.

I almost come when she pushes down, taking me by surprise as I penetrate her mouth. She bobs up and down, letting out loud smacks as she takes and returns as much as she can, stroking the rest with her fingers. I’m at my limit. I grab her head and keep her in place as I feel hotness raise from deep inside of me and out of her, spurting shot after shot of cum in her mouth.

“Sucy! Sucy! Sucy!” I shout as she keeps up with her stroking and makes sure I give her all she can swallow. I fall on the bed, panting. 

“We’re even now.” She lies by my side. “I would have been so mad at myself if I had let you go back to the human world without making you feel good at all.”

“If I knew I missed something like this, I’d be mad at myself too.”

“Yeah,” she nibs at my earlobe and brings my hand to her lower stomach. “but it’s still a pity we couldn’t do anything more, you know? I would have loved to feel you burn deep inside of me, but one can’t expect too much from a human.”

“You can’t expect much, eh?” I climb over her, a knee at either side of her thighs and a hand at either side of her head, and look down at her like a lion looks at his prey. “No no no, this won’t do. I can’t let down my Queen.”

I drag my finger along her pussy lips, back to front, and strum at her clitoris. Her little number of me has already left her a drenched mess, so there is no friction at all as I glide over her skin. She warms up and a cloud of pink peeks through the black of her skin as more blood rushes to her pussy lips. She’s not the only one getting ready, though, as life returns to my crotch and I reach my full length.

I spread my legs and lower myself, using her wide abdomen as a cushion. I press my cock between her lips, teasing her with its length, and drive her to wrap her legs around me, desperately trying to pull me inside.

“Nathan!” She shouts.

“It’s not nice to be teased, isn’t it? And yet it feels so good. I should torture you a bit, we’ll really be even.” I lay myself against her and pin her under my whole height, preparing to finally make her mine in the most primal of ways. I pull my lips close to her ears, and whisper: “But I really want to fuck you.” 

Her legs squeeze around me as she hears my words, and I slip inside. She opens for me like a door to one’s home, each of her folds a tempting invitation to go deeper, feel more, spread her wider, give it all I’ve got. I buy inch after inch of her warm canal, so spacious and yet so tight, relaxed to perfection by her sucking and my teasing. It fits me like clothes that I’ve never seen and yet I know where made just for me. 

“Take it slow.” She says. “I want to get used to your whole size before you start moving.”

I can only grunt in response because my instincts have split into a thousand voices at the back of my head that won’t stop shouting that I must move my hips, I must rid myself of this pressure that starts at the base of my crotch and pulls and pushes at the same time.

“Wait just a little bit more.” She says with words that are almost lost in her panting.

I’m a bomb ready to explode, but I can’t yet, I can only stay here, taking in the combination of the scents of our sweat and our come, a mind-numbing cocktail that has taken every nook and cranny of our love cocoon. I take her legs in my arms and hoist them over my shoulders. I hold onto them like the safety bar on a roller coaster seat. I’m at the cusp of the track, and I know I’m about to fall.

“Go.”

I pounce on her like a tiger that has waited for the right moment to strike its prey, folding Sucy under me as her feet bob up and down over her shoulders, her legs shaken by my whole weight dropping onto her pelvis, spreading her apart and filling her like a glove. I’m raving, delirious in my freedom for I’m free, free to bury myself into her over and over again, free to let go of all this frustration and pent up strength, free to rock her world and her body.

We’re nothing more than two moaning messes, addicted to each other bodies and desperately looking for our next hit. She spills herself on me and makes the slapping of our bodies together that much wetter. This time, I’m the target of her orgasmic violence, as her claws drag down my back, drawing blood and pain in a way I never thought I could find so pleasurable.

“I am coming!” I shout, giving her one last push, desperate to go as deep as I’ve ever gone, not because of any rational reason, but because that’s what the animalistic desire that has taken over my brain wants. 

I dig my face between her breasts and let myself go, pouring out all my excitement and desire deep into her. One, two, three spurts and more, spreading far and wide and staining her tender flesh.

Things go quiet. Our breathing and heartbeats are all we hear. My shrinking length slips outside of her, and we remain like that, on top of each other, with my head on her chest, lulled by the rhythm beating beyond. Unconsciousness is setting in.

“No…” I protest weakly. I’m going back tonight, I can’t sleep yet, I must go on.

Sucinea brushes my hair with caresses, and shushes me softly. “Thank you, Nat. For everything.”

I fall asleep.

I don’t wake up in  _ our _ bed, but in  _ my  _ bed. The one back in the human world, the one that feels so empty and cold with no one at my side. I wake up with excitement and happiness in my heart, but it’s a Monday, so I must return to my normal life. As I drag myself along my routine and through work, the memories of the past few days are vivid in my mind, and yet, doubt grows at the back of my brain like black mold in a dark place. Could it be that it was all a dream? If so, what did I do for the whole weekend? No, it couldn’t have a dream. I couldn’t have just dreamed her up, could I?

I drive home too fast, I don’t exit my car, I leap out of it, and I don’t enter by the front door, I run around my home, and straight to the garden, because there is nothing in the word that I care more about than to confirm myself that all I felt is real. 

But, of course, there is no way for me to do that. I’m in a different world, now, a world that is meant to be mine and yet feels so alien. I stand under the tree and observe the nest. It’s an umbrella of hexagonal combs, with little workers scuttling all over and inside it. No tall columns. No spacious rooms. No palace. Only buzzing. Only wasps.

One of them takes flight, zig-zagging in the ear to land on my index. Six dots, two columns. The pips of a dice. I shake it away, only for it to return right after. I poke at its abdomen. I fake a slap. No reaction. Meekest wasp in the world.

“Sucinea,” I whisper, drawing my finger close to my lips, “If I’ll ever meet you again, in the other realm, sting me now.”

And with that, her stinger buries itself in me.


End file.
